


Brought Down by Them

by elfblooded



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anxiety, Being Mentally Ill as a Supposed Messianic Figure Is Not Fun, Depression, How to Deal With Leading an Organization Called the Inquisition When You're Jewish: A Shitty Guide, Jewish Protagonist, Mage Rights or Mage Fights, Modern Girl in Thedas, Self-Insert, Tourette's Syndrome, fuck the chantry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2019-08-22 08:03:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16593998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfblooded/pseuds/elfblooded
Summary: The shade falls, and Cassandra wipes her brow, before turning and running up the path to begin slicing into the wraith.How does she do that in full armor?Lily wonders, before snatching up the staff, running to the wraith, and hitting it over the head with the weighted end.It shrieks as it dies, and both Lily and Cassandra pause for a moment, breathing heavily. Technically, Lily did less than Cassandra, but she has asthma and is at a high altitude, so she’ll cut herself some slack.“So. You do not know how to use the staff.”“I didn’t know I was a mage until twenty minutes ago.”“That…is a fair point.” They share a glance, and keep moving.*******Lily did not expect to wake up in a dungeon. She also did not expect to somehow have traveled dimensions, ended up in Thedas, ended up at the Conclave, and have people revere her as a champion of a heavily Christian-coded religion. She'sJewish,for fuck's sake, not to mention sixteen, mentally ill, and stuck without any of her meds. Well, if she's going to be stuck here, she might as well try to fix things. What? No, that's not an evil grin on her face. Why ever would you think that?





	1. The Wrath of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bismoran](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bismoran/gifts).



> For Miri.
> 
> Warnings in this chapter for panic attacks, violence, and disturbing imagery. See end notes for actual messages.

_"The Chantry was built by men, and it can be brought down by them."_  
\- Anders, Dragon Age II

 

First there is the cold, hard, stone leeching the warmth from her legs, as Lily blinks awake to –

No. Stop.

First, there are the whispers-

But that is not right either. The whispers were before the stone, but there was something else, something wrong, different, something…green?

_Looking around her bedroom for what woke her up, stumbling down a stone corridor, people who look ~~familiar~~ strange, a door opening, pain lancing up her arm, running across a craggy landscape and reaching out to a woman made of light, and above everything a long, low laugh - _

Lily jerks awake, gasping, whipping her head around frantically and nearly impaling herself on a nearby – is that a sword?

“What the _fuck?”_ She yelps. “Who – what - _why do you have a sword?”_ Because upon closer inspection, yes, that is indeed a sword, and it is being held by a person, wearing actual, honest-to-God armor, and a helmet, and in the time it takes her to process all of that, no one answers her.

“Um.” Lily could be considered awkward by many people (herself included), but shouldn’t it be protocol to answer the person you have at – at swordpoint? “Dude? Can you hear me?”

The…swordholder- _swordbearer? Swordhandler? What’s the proper terminology here?_ -doesn’t respond, but shifts their weight, and Lily looks around to see…several other people, holding swords. They are holding their swords in her direction, which is in the middle of a room. Actually, it appears to be a kind of stone cell, with one door, which is far away from her. This turn of events seems incredibly detrimental to her long-term survival.

Lily’s torn between begging for her life and looking for game show cameras when the door slams open. She winces, because _sudden loud noise,_ and looks up to see – to see –

“Tell me why we shouldn’t –“ Is as far as Cassandra gets before Lily bursts into laughter, slouching forwards and gasping for breath. The woman takes a step back, and glances to a hooded figure by her side.

“Fuck.” Lily manages to choke out, “Of course it’s a dream. Jesus, I thought that maybe I was kidnapped by some batshit medieval cult, but it’s a dream. Okay.” She raises her hands, and in doing so realizes that they’re cuffed together, _Goddamn, this dream is realistic_ and awkwardly gestures for Cassandra to continue. “Go ahead. This is great.”

Clearly that was the wrong thing to say, as dream-Cassandra’s eyes darken. “Do you believe this to be a _joke?_ ” she snarls, features twisted in anger. “Do you think that we are foolish enough to believe you are innocent? Our Divine lies dead. Do not waste our time attempting to convince us of your naivety!”

“Cassandra,” a voice interjects. “If I may?”

Cassandra gives Lily a grimace, before turning with a disgusted noise. A woman with a soft voice and red hair, hidden under a hood, steps out of the shadows of the room and towards Lily. Her every step is calculated to appear non threatening, but she is more than capable of killing a man with her bare hands. Her singing voice is sweet, but it is not through singing that she has earned the title of “Sister Nightingale.” Leliana is dangerous and sharp, and as she walks closer to Lily, the girl actually feels a thrill of fear shoot through her spine.

“Do you remember anything?” Leliana asks, her gentle tone a sharp contrast to Cassandra’s shouts. “Anything at all about the Conclave?”

Lily rolls her eyes. “The Templars agreed to treat mages like they were people, and then everyone sat around the fire and sang Kumbaya. I know I’m dreaming, so can we skip this part and go outside? I want to-” she’s cut off by a gauntleted hand hitting her across the cheek. Lily cries out, and instinctively tries to raise a hand to her face, but the handcuffs stop her.

“Cassandra!” Leliana yells, and the Seeker steps back.

“You are not dreaming,” Cassandra snarls, “and you _will_ answer us.” She is visibly incensed, lip curled, jaw clenched. The hand she used to hit Lily is curled into a fist at her side. “I believe that Leliana asked you a question."

Lily stares at her, and then at Leliana. _Should I ask to change my meds?_ Probably. She’s felt pain in dreams before – she can clearly remember dreaming of hitting her face when trying to dodge a car, and the feeling of her cheek swelling afterwards – but that blow was much sharper than anything she’d felt before, awake or asleep. She doesn’t get into fights at school, and Cassandra was wearing a gauntlet, it had been sharp, it had _hurt,_ and Lily decides to play along.

“I don’t know why I was at the Conclave,” she starts. “I remember that I was sleeping, and something woke me up. Then…then there were people, and a lot of green, and – and a woman?” Technically, none of that is a lie. Lily knows that the woman would have been Divine Justinia, but keeps that to herself. She doesn’t need more suspicion, and besides, Cassandra looks slightly less murderous upon hearing her admission.

“A woman?” Leliana murmurs. Cassandra steps forward, and Lily flinches involuntarily. “Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” Cassandra heaves Lily up and pulls her forward, ignoring the girl’s grumbled complaint. Marching forward, Cassandra pushes open the heavy doors, and Lily looks up.

 _I am definitely asking Dr. C to change my meds,_ is the first thing she manages to think after the initial shock of seeing the Breach. There’s no way this is a normal dream; the Breach is too bright, too vivid, too…alive to simply be the product of her imagination. As Lily is going over how to ask her parents for a new prescription, her thoughts are interrupted by Cassandra.

“We call it the Breach,” she says. Lily doesn’t bother saying that she already knows this, and Cassandra continues. “It is a massive rift into the world of demons. It is not the only such rift, only the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

Lily thinks she might understand why all of her Inquisitors sounded so incredulous when hearing the source of the Breach. There is an inherent wrongness to it, something that seems to brand your eyes with a sense of revulsion and fear. She’s ripped out of her musings by a sharp pain in her hand, as the mark crackles with green light.

“Fuck!” Lily bends over and clutches her bound hands to her chest. Cassandra bends her knees slightly, so as to make eye contact.

“Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads.” Cassandra hesitates slightly, before adding, “and it is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

Lily stares at her hand. It still flickers with light. She can smell nearby wood smoke, and a faint, all-encompassing trace of sulfur. Her mouth tastes like copper from Cassandra hitting her. The cold bites at her face. If this is a dream, it is a very realistic one, and she would likely best be served by playing along. Having decided, albeit reluctantly because this is very unpleasant, Lily looks up and meets Cassandra’s eyes.

“I still think I'm dreaming,” she begins, “but if this is real, people are dying. I’ll help you if I can.”

Something like respect gleams in Cassandra’s eyes, and she nods. The warrior and the girl both straighten and walk away from the chantry.

*******

Lily tunes out Cassandra talking about her assumed guilt and the Conclave in favor of looking around. People are looking at her with fear and disgust and hate. Their eyes are furious, their mouths are snarled, they all look as if they hate her, they are looking at her, _they are all looking at me, oh God, oh God make them stop looking at me make them stop please -_

“Prisoner!” Lily flinches away from the loud noise, before registering the meaning. She looks up at Cassandra, who looks almost concerned. “Breathe, child.” Cassandra says, her tone gentler, and Lily realizes that she had been hyperventilating.

 _Calm down,_ she tells herself. _You’re okay, honey. Just breathe. You need to breathe._ Feeling her breathing slow, Lily is infinitely grateful that she stopped berating herself during anxiety attacks and took a more patient stance instead. Looking up to Cassandra, she nods. “I’m okay.”

Cassandra looks doubtful, but takes out a knife and cuts the rope binding Lily’s hands. “There will be a trial,” she says. “I can promise no more.”

Lily doesn’t care so much about the trial as she does about the knife, staring at it because that’s the Murder Knife™. It looks like it does in-game, a black blade with gold detailing and everything. Cassandra sighs. Lily looks up and sees Cassandra purse her lips before handing the knife over, hilt-first. _Wait. What?_ In the game, the protagonist didn’t get a weapon until they were attacked by a shade, and even then, Cassandra ordered them to drop it.

Lily doesn’t understand why Cassandra would give her a knife; because Lily is not Cassandra, looking at a teenager whose shoulders are hunched from the cold and has a blossoming bruise on her cheek, who is in possession of a mess of curls and a face that still has baby fat as well as too-wide eyes that are staring at a knife as if it is the only thing in the world that makes sense.

“Take it,” Cassandra commands, when Lily has stared for too long. “We may encounter demons along our way.”

Looking up at Cassandra the whole time, Lily slowly reaches for the knife, and then holds it limply in her hand. Cassandra turns and strides forward, and Lily hurries behind her to keep up. They go through a gate that opens at Cassandra’s command, and pass a wagon on fire, men who run by – “Maker, it’s the end of the world!” one of them shouts – and then the Breach thunders again and Lily’s mark flares like it’s burning.

Lily falls to her knees and clenches her jaw. “Shit,” she grits out, and takes a breath. _You’ve felt worse before,_ she tells herself. _This is just physical. Ignore it._

“The pulses are coming faster now.” Cassandra states, and helps Lily up. They’re about to move forward when Lily spins around. “Wait!”

She rushes back to where she fell and pats at the ground, digging through the snow until she finds the knife again. Standing up, she looks for a safer place to hold it than her hand. Cassandra lets out a disgusted noise, and then takes the knife away, before grabbing at Lily’s belt and shoving the knife in a holster.

“There,” she says. “Do you know how the knife works?”

Lily was wondering when she even got a belt, and fiddles with the hilt of the knife. “Stick them with the pointy end,” she says absentmindedly, and looks up as Cassandra lets out a snort.

“Fair enough.” _Arya Stark would be proud._

They keep walking, past corpses, _oh God, those people are dead,_ and Lily realizes that she’s feeling woozy. Following behind Cassandra, she makes a mental tally of things that could be the cause. One, anxiety. Two, hunger. Three, dehydration, made worse because it’s colder in the mountains, which leads to four, altitude sickness –

Lily hears a boom and tries to look up before she’s falling, and _How did I forget that the bridge was going to collapse oh my God._ Landing on the ice, she lets out a yelp, because she probably just bruised her tailbone. Scrambling up, she hears Cassandra yell, “Stay behind me!” and watches as the Seeker charges towards a demon bubbling up from the ice.

Lily should be terrified, and she is, but she’s also fascinated, because there’s a demon _right there._ And Cassandra is fighting it! Lily wouldn’t want to see a demon up close, but from here, she can look at how it moves, almost catlike in its fluidity, and she watches with such amazement that she wouldn’t have remembered the second demon if not for the meteorite launching into the ice near her feet, and beginning to boil before a figure starts to claw its way out.

“Motherfucker!” Lily shouts, and then looks around frantically for something, anything to use as a weapon, but apparently her dream is laughing at her because all she can see is a staff, and she isn’t a mage. “God-fucking-damnit!” she yells, and pulls her knife out of its holster right before the demon is atop the ice and moving towards her. It turns one glowing eye on her, and Lily lets out a shrill, piercing scream, so loud that the demon actually flinches, and then Lily leaps forward with the knife and stabs it in the arm.

The demon does not die from being stabbed in the arm, and Lily just manages to rip the knife out before it knocks her onto the ice. “Ohshitohshitohshit,” she whimpers, crawling backwards as it glides towards her. The knife was knocked out of her hand, Cassandra won’t be here in time to kill it before it kills her, and Lily forgets that this is a dream because there is pure unbridled fear spreading cold throughout her body, letting her taste metal at the back of her throat, and her anxiety roars loudly enough that her skin feels charged as she lifts her hands up to shield her face so she won’t have to see that thing before she dies.

There is a noise like static and Lily feels as if her hands are tingling. She waits a moment, then looks up, decidedly confused as to her continued life, and freezes. The demon is lying on the ground, twitching as the remnants of an electrical current run through its body. Lily stares at it, because the last time she checked, Cassandra wasn’t a mage.

The woman in question charges over, managing to keep her balance on the ice, and seizes Lily’s collar. “You are a mage?” she cries out. “Why did you not tell me?” Lily stares at her blankly, because what is she talking about? Lily isn’t a mage. Magic isn’t even real, she’s just dreaming.

“I’m not – I’m not a mage,” she manages to stutter, and Cassandra’s expression turns furious for a moment before a look of comprehension dawns on her face.

“How old are you?” Cassandra asks. When Lily just stares at her, her gaze hardens. “Answer me!”

“Sixteen!” Lily cries, because she _doesn’t like yelling._ “I’m sixteen years old.”

Cassandra nods, and releases Lily’s collar. “Most mages have their magic manifest earlier in adolescence,” she says. “You are unfortunate that you have discovered yours when there is no Circle to help you.”

Lily’s still trying to process that when Cassandra picks up the staff from the ground and holds it out to her. “You will need training, but for now, it will have to suffice.” Lily takes the staff wordlessly, picks up the knife and holsters it, then stands. Cassandra is saying something about potions, and hands her a bottle, which Lily stares at, until she realizes that she’s supposed to store it somewhere. Her coat - When did I get a coat? - has pockets, and she puts the potions in there for the time being, then follows Cassandra up an incline and sees- and sees-

_Oh God, he’s dead._

Lily can’t stop staring at the dead man lying on the ground, until Cassandra grasps her arm and tugs her forward. Right, she thinks. Breach. She has to go and fix that, and so she readies her staff and follows Cassandra.

*******

“If we flank them, we may gain the advantage!” Cassandra calls out, and Lily startles, because that would require her to fight. With magic. That she doesn’t know how to use, but Cassandra is already barreling down the hill towards the wraith, so Lily curses and heaves the staff around so it is pointed at the shade near it, and…nothing happens.

Cassandra lets out a war cry, and slashes at the wraith, before staggering as the shade knocks into her from the side, and Lily doesn’t know how to use magic but Cassandra is outnumbered and Lily wants to help but she’s scared, she doesn’t know what to do and she glares at the staff she’s holding and thinks, _Work._

Nothing happens.

Cassandra has killed one wraith, and has turned to the shade, but there is another wraith on the path above her, sending magic her way, and Lily thinks _shit_ and runs down the hill, dropping the staff, coming at the shade from behind and sinking her knife into its shoulder. It roars, and spins towards her, leaving its flank open for Cassandra’s sword to slide into. The shade falls, and Cassandra wipes her brow, before turning and running up the path to begin slicing into the wraith. _How does she do that in full armor?_ Lily wonders, before snatching up the staff, running to the wraith, and hitting it over the head with the weighted end.

It shrieks as it dies, and both Lily and Cassandra pause for a moment, breathing heavily. Technically, Lily did less than Cassandra, but she has asthma and is at a high altitude, so she’ll cut herself some slack.

“So. You do not know how to use the staff.”

“I didn’t know I was a mage until twenty minutes ago.”

“That…is a fair point.” They share a glance, and keep moving.

*******

“We’re getting close, you can hear the fighting!” And Lily can, the sounds of steel and magic almost covering Cassandra’s voice. She doesn’t bother to ask who is fighting, instead focusing on her breath and wishing that she had her inhaler. Cassandra reaches the top of the path and drops down into a small battlefield, Lily frozen behind her. There are shades and wraiths and soldiers and a mage with pointy ears by a short man holding a crossbow.

There is also a shade right in front of her, and Lily yelps, staggering backwards to get away from it, when it jolts, the front of a bolt protruding from its face. Lily stares and turns to see the crossbow down one more shade, before someone grabs her wrist (and she thinks _Stop it don’t let go I don’t like it when people touch me DON’T TOUCH ME_ ) and shouts “Quickly, before more come through!”

And her hand is thrust towards a rift, a hole in the sky which emanates a sense of wrongness. She can feel it connect to her mark like magnets being drawn together, and she feels like someone punched her in the funny bones as a shiver trembles all the way along her arm, concentrates in her hand, and then snaps.

The rift closes, and she staggers back.

“Ow,” she mutters, and then a hand is outstretched in front of her. She takes it without looking and lets herself be pulled up, before she realizes who helped her.

“You alright there, Blue?” Varric asks, and Lily just stares at him, gaping like a fish. He frowns a bit. “Blue? You okay?” His eyes lock onto the bruise on her cheek, and his expression turns stormy. “What in Andraste’s name happened to your face?”

“That was me, I’m afraid,” Cassandra says, and Lily nearly jumps out of her skin because make some noise before you sneak up on a girl for fuck’s sake. “She was not providing the answers I sought, and I…lost my temper, as it were.” Cassandra looks aside, shame tracing a fleeting path on her face, before looking back at Varric. “Do you know this girl? Is that why you call her ‘Blue’?”

Lily stares at him, because, yeah, good point. Varric notices her looking and forces a smile. “Oh, come on Seeker,” he says, all tension gone from his voice, “You know I nickname people. Look at the kid’s eyes!”

“My eyes?” Lily raises a hand to her face, before looking back at Varric. “How did you notice the color of my eyes immediately after killing a demon?”

Varric chuckles. “It’s a gift, Blue. I’m a marksman for a reason. My name’s Varric, by the way. Varric Tethras. Ever heard of me?” The look he gives her is almost hopeful, and she nods.

“Yeah, I’ve – I’ve heard of your books.” Lily looks at the crossbow on his back and has to bite the inside of her cheek, because that’s Bianca. “I like your crossbow. It’s shiny.” Then she blushes, because ‘it’s shiny’? Really? But Varric just laughs and waves his hand.

“Yeah, Bianca and I have been through a lot together. It’s nice to see someone else from Kirkwall appreciating her.” Which. _What?_

“Why is it you think the girl is from Kirkwall, Varric?” Cassandra says, her eyes narrowing. “You said you did not know her.”

Cassandra is terrifying, but Varric Tethras clearly has no sense of self-preservation, as he simply shrugs and allows his mouth to curl into a smirk. “You think I can’t recognize an accent from my own city, Seeker? The kid’s clearly a Marcher.”

Lily is not a Marcher, actually; she’s American. Apparently, an American accent means she’s from Kirkwall, though, as Cassandra nods stiffly and drops the subject, only to snap her head back around as Varric declares his intentions of fighting with them.

“Absolutely not!” Cassandra steps away from her conversation. “Your help is appreciated, Varric, but…”

They bicker, and Lily ignores them, turning instead to glance at Solas, Pride, Fen’harel, the Dread Wolf, the Great Betrayer, He-Who-Hunts-Alone, and says “Hi.”

He inclines his head at her. “Hello. I am Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live.”

“He means, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept.'” Varric interjects, having won his fight with Cassandra.

Lily looks at Solas. His appearance is different than it was in the game; his skin is darker, and he has dreadlocks loosely gathered at the nape of his neck. “You know,” she says, “I’m not entirely convinced that this whole thing isn’t a really, really messed up dream. But if it’s real, then thanks for not letting me die.”

Solas arches an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth curls up slightly. “You are welcome.” Then, turning to Cassandra, “Cassandra, you should know: the magic involved here is unlike any I have ever seen. Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to imagine any mage having such power.”

Cassandra nods. “Understood. We must get to the forward camp quickly.”

They look very serious, but Varric just grins. “Well, Bianca’s excited!”

*******

They fend off demons outside of the forward camp, and Lily sews shut another tear in the veil. The gates open, and the group moves inside to hear shouting.

“We must prepare the soldiers!”

Chancellor Roderick scowls at Leliana. “We will do no such thing!”

The spymaster looks as if her hood is the only thing keeping her from tearing her hair out in frustration. “The prisoner _must_ get to the Temple of Sacred Ashes. It is our only chance!”

Roderick sneers. “You have already caused enough trouble without resorting to this exercise in futility.”

As Leliana and Roderick argue, the party approaches them, and Roderick catches sight of Lily. He hushes Leliana and turns to face Cassandra. “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal to Val Royeaux to face execution.”

“Order _me?_ You are a glorified clerk! A bureaucrat!” Cassandra spits. They keep sniping back and forth, their attention turned away from Lily who tries to unfreeze and breathe again after hearing the Chancellor order her arrest. It doesn’t work very well, and she’s still scared, and they’re still fighting even though it doesn’t matter and then the mark on her hand sparks and she can’t –

“For the sake of ever-loving fuck, why are you all standing here?” Her voice sounds hysterical but she can’t – it won’t go back to normal. “There’s a hole in the fucking sky! I don’t give a _shit_ about your Chantry, we need to close it!”

It seems as if the entire camp goes silent when Lily’s done, and her chest heaves, trying to get enough air. Cassandra looks gobsmacked, Roderick is turning the color of a prune, and Leliana seems to have a hint of a smile on her face, before it’s gone. “Holy shit.” Varric mutters beside her, and that snaps Roderick out of it.

“How dare you!” he roars, spittle flying from his mouth. “You are the one who caused all of this in the first place! This is your fault!” Then his shoulders slump, and he turns to Cassandra. “Call a retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopeless.”

Lily knows the rest of this, and when Cassandra turns to her, she decides to take the mountain path. “You said there were scouts, right? They might be alive. We can’t just leave them to die.” Varric nods, and Cassandra’s expression tightens slightly before she inclines her head.

“On your head be the consequences, Seeker,” Roderick mutters, and they move out.

*******

“Ow!”

That’s the third splinter she’s gotten from these ladders. These evil, evil ladders sent straight from the pits of hell to be climbed whilst feeling woozy from altitude in the wind and snow up a mountain. Lily does not like these ladders at all, and is strongly regretting her decision to take the mountain path.

 _No you’re not,_ she chastises herself, _think of the soldiers, you’ll save them, this is worth it._

_Is it, though?_

_Yes._

Eventually they reach the top, and Lily collapses onto the ground, pressing her palm against her chest and wheezing, and Varric shouts in alarm.

“Chuckles! Need you over here!”

Solas dashes over and leans down, lifting Lily up and placing his hands on her back, _Stop it, no, don’t touch me,_ and Lily wants to protest but she can’t breathe and then she feels Solas’ hands grow warm, and the warmth seems to spread through her back and into her body, into her lungs, and she gasps and sucks in air.

Solas releases her immediately, and she turns to look at him, coughing. “Thanks,” she manages to squeeze out. He nods.  
“Do you often encounter difficulty when breathing?” His head tilts to the side, curious in a clinical sense. He reminds Lily of a doctor; it’s almost comforting, and she lets out a short laugh.

“Not really,” she says, “It doesn’t happen too much. It gets worse, though, if I’m sick, or if I feel cold, or if I physically exert myself, or if I’m somewhere really high up, or if I’m really, really stressed.”

There is a pause. Lily shifts.

“Okay, that’s four out of five. I’ll be fine, though! I’m not going to be fighting demons and then die due to asthma. That would be way too fucked up”

Cassandra looks less than reassured, Solas seems unimpressed, and Varric levels her with a flat stare.

“Solas, stay near her, and see to her if her breathing becomes disturbed,” Cassandra orders. Solas nods. Lily opens her mouth, then remembers that they’re counting on her being alive to literally save the world, and chooses not to protest. Varric offers her a hand.

“Come on, Blue,” he says, hauling her up. “We’ve got soldiers to save.”

*******

The soldiers are very grateful to be saved, and, mercifully, none of them comment on Lily’s retching from walking past several corpses earlier. Then their leader turns to thank Lily, who responds by stammering and then falling into the snow.

“That was smooth, Blue.” Varric has not stopped talking about the incident since they left the group of soldiers, and Lily hates him for it.

“Shut up.”

“No, I mean – it wasn’t just the ‘Yes, I mean no, I mean thank you Ma’am, I mean you’re welcome, but, like, you don’t have to thank us!’” Varric chuckles. “After all that, you try to bow - bow! - and then end up falling on your ass!”

“You are the worst person alive.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve been told so by a very reputable source.” Varric’s expression warps into something strange for a moment, as if he’s in on a joke the rest of them don’t understand, before smoothing out. “Anyway, not that it isn’t fun to tease you, Blue, but Seeker? I think we’re almost there.”

He’s right. The ground they walk on begins to turn black and charred, and there’s an overpowering smell of smoke, and something worse.

Once, Lily’s father had been in a subway station when a man jumped onto the rails. He had described to her that there had been a horrifying smell akin to cooked meat, something that he noticed again years later, after 9/11. Lily would gladly have spent her life not learning that firsthand, but as the group approaches the temple, she thinks that it’s a little too late.

And then there are the bodies.

They’re horrible, twisted things, burnt beyond recognition yet each contorted into a position of agony. Lily steps on something that crunches, looks down, and sees that it’s a small collection of bones, like someone’s hand.

“Excuse me,” she manages to get out, and then vomits. She retches onto the blackened ground and wraps her arms around herself. This is awful. This is so much worse than awful. When she wakes up she’s calling her psychiatrist immediately because whatever she’s taking that’s making this dream, she doesn’t want it.

After a few moments, Lily hears someone steps towards her, and they place a hand on her shoulder. She flinches away, and turns to see Cassandra, her face a mixture of anger and sympathy.

“I know that it is terrible,” Cassandra says, and Lily wants to laugh because _how can something like this be described only as terrible,_ “But we must move on. Many more will perish if the Breach is not sealed. Come. We are nearly there.”

Lily looks at her, and feels for a dreadful moment that she might faint. Instead, she swallows, nods, and bites the inside of her cheek.

They walk on.

*******

“You made it! Thank the Maker!”

Leliana runs over to them and starts speaking to Cassandra. Lily ignores them, too busy looking around. She remembers what the temple looked like in Origins, with soaring ceilings and gleaming snowdrifts; now, there is nothing left but ashes.

 _Ashes._ She snorts.

Looking up, Lily immediately feels nauseous. The Breach is close, and it almost feels...hungry. Her marked hand is spasming, like a tic, except for the jolts of pain running up and down her arm. She shakes her hand out, and the mark lets out a spray of sparks, effectively drawing attention.

Cassandra turns to her. “This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?”

 _No, not at all. Can I go home now?_ “Um. Yeah,” is what Lily says instead, because sometimes it’s better to lie to the heavily armed soldiers who have already hit you (even though they feel a little bad about it) and are depending on your cooperation.

Solas looks at her hand, and nods decisively. “This rift was the first. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the Breach.”

“Then we must find a way down.” Cassandra starts on ahead, and Lily follows behind. They’re walking down the blackened path when a voice echoes out.

**Now is the hour of our victory.**

Lily’s blood runs cold, and she dimly registers the others talking in the background, mentioning how the voice is an echo. The voice asks for a sacrifice, and their group passes a cluster of red lyrium.

“You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker,” Varric mutters, and Lily would be paying more attention if not for the corpses everywhere. She’s lost in her own head, repeating a mantra of _ohGodwhyohGodwhyohGodwhy_ until she hears her own voice.

“Holy shit! What the absolute _Goddamn fuck_ are you doing?”

Yep. That’s her alright.

 **We have an intruder,** the voice of Corypheus echoes. **Slay the girl.**

“That was your voice!” Cassandra whirls towards Lily, her eyes frenzied. “You were there! The Divine called out to you! What happened? Is she –"

“I don’t remember being there!” Lily yells, because she doesn’t and that is horrifying. She’s disassociated before to the point where there have been gaps in her memory, but never like this; never anything like this. She tries to breath steadily but can’t. “I don’t remember being there, I don’t remember the Divine, I don’t know what happened I don’t know I don’t know I don’t know!”

She may be having a panic attack. Fuck, she wishes she had a paper bag.

Cassandra moves to grab her by the arm, but when she makes contact Lily’s wrist sparks with electricity and Cassandra yelps and drops her hand, and that doesn’t make sense either none of this makes sense and Lily is scared and she can’t get enough air, and that’s when Leliana steps in.

“Lily, you are safe now, yes?” The bard keeps her voice soft and low when she speaks. “You must breathe. In and out, slowly. Simply breathe. You will be alright.”

It’s hard, but Lily manages to gasp a full breath, and Leliana smiles at her. “That was excellent!” she murmurs, and Lily takes then another, until she’s breathing normally. Her fingers feel numb and she’s lightheaded, but she’s breathing.

“Thank you,” she manages to whisper. Leliana simply inclines her head. Looking up, Lily gives herself a shake, and then turned to Solas. “You, um. You said this rift was the key?” He looks slightly discomfited, but nods at her.

“Yes. You will need to reopen it before it can be fully closed. Doing so will likely draw attention from the other side of the veil.”

“That means demons!” Cassandra shouts, and archers take up positions around the rift. Their group moves forward, Lily trying to ignore the tremble in her hands, and then they are in front of the rift.

Lily looks around, and Cassandra nods at her. Now? They want her to do this, like, right now? _Shit. Okay, then._

Squaring her shoulders, Lily unslings her staff, steps forward and flings her hand towards the rift. Once more, the mark is drawn to it, but instead of waiting for the rift to snap close, Lily yanks her hand away as hard as she can.

The rift opens.

A demon falls out.

“Oh, shit!” Lily yelps, and nearly falls over in her haste to get away from the giant fucking Pride demon that is _right there._

The demon laughs, and cracks whips made from lightning, and Lily can’t even think. She ducks behind a rock to watch as the arrows the archers let loose bounce off of the demon’s thick skin, only making it angrier. It roars and laughs and swings its whips, knocking people off their feet, scattering them like toy soldiers and Lily can’t look away until she hears a shade screech behind her.

The next few moments are fuzzy. Lily knows she saw the shade, that she was terrified, that she thought she would die, and she screamed – and her staff lit up and then the shade was slumped on the ground, with smoke rising from its corpse.

That jars her into action, and she _goes for it._ She swings her staff at shades, hitting them in their heads and shoulders, screaming as loudly as she can to try and make them flinch; several times, bolts of electricity fly from the end of her staff, but she doesn’t know how to produce them on command. She’s whacking the body of a shade repeatedly, dark green ichor pooling around it, when Varric grabs her by the shoulder and yanks her away.

“It’s dead, Blue! Shit, it’s dead! Stop screaming!”

Lily snaps out of it and looks around frantically. The Pride demon is on its knees, she has a gash on her arm and she can taste blood from a split lip. There are bodies of five shades near her, all either smoking faintly or sporting indents from a very heavy staff head. _How did I do that?_ she wonders, somewhat hysterically. Varric looks disturbed and he’s gesturing towards the rift and _that’s right, I have to close it, I can close it,_ so she throws her arm towards the hole in the sky and cries out as the mark connects, feeling as if her arm is going to be pulled off when suddenly there’s a –

**boom**

-and she falls unconscious.


	2. The War Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily wakes up with memories of something with too many eyes, and something important about the Grey…something. They slip away from her as she tries to think, like sand spilling through fingers. She has a killer headache, but she _does_ remember having a vivid nightmare about the beginning of _Inquisition._ It’s possible that her mom is right about her spending too much time on videogames, but Lily certainly isn’t going to tell her that.
> 
> Then she hears the box drop.
> 
> Lily sits up quickly, blinking spots from her vision, and sees an elf drop to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for dissociation, panic attacks, severe anxiety and the occasional intrusive thought.

Lily wakes up with memories of something with too many eyes, and something important about the Grey…something. They slip away from her as she tries to think, like sand spilling through fingers. She has a killer headache, but she _does_ remember having a vivid nightmare about the beginning of _Inquisition._ It’s possible that her mom is right about her spending too much time on videogames, but Lily certainly isn’t going to tell her that.

Then she hears the box drop.

Lily sits up quickly, blinking spots from her vision, and sees an elf drop to the ground.

“I beg your forgiveness, and your blessing,” they start, but Lily doesn’t hear the rest because ice has shot through her veins and is curling upwards, around her heart and throat, choking her. This does not make sense. She’d woken up. She cannot be in a wooden cabin in the same room as an elf in a fictional world; that does not make sense. It doesn’t work. It’s impossible. It’s impossible, it’s impossible, it’s impossible, it’s _impossible_ and she _wants her mom,_ but her mom isn’t here because she’s somewhere that isn’t real and none of this makes any sense and she can’t breathe oh God she can’t breathe _this isn’t real this isn’t happening this can’t be real why can’t I wake up please let me wake up wake up wake up oh God let me wake up -_

“Blue!” Lily hears a voice, distantly, but she can’t focus on it. Someone tries to touch her shoulder and she flinches away. “Shit, ow, Blue, you need to calm down!” There are more voices now, she thinks; someone is asking what’s going on, which is a good question that Lily doesn’t know the answer to, and someone else is talking about danger and mentioning lyrium and then a wave of force hits her so hard that she’s knocked backwards into the wall.

Lily takes a single, shocked, breath, and then starts screaming.

***

When she comes to, she’s on the floor with her head between her legs and her arms wrapped around her knees. 

“Lily, have you returned to us?”

Lily’s head snaps up and she scrabbles backwards before registering that the voice belongs to Leliana; she’s kneeling on the ground next to Lily, and she actually looks concerned. Varric is standing behind her, and Cassandra is in the doorway. They’re here. They’re real. This is real, she’s not home, she wants to go home –

“Hey, easy, Blue!” Varric raises his hands slowly and walks towards her. “Your breathing’s getting fast again. Look at me, okay? You’re safe. You’re okay.”

Lily closes her eyes for a long, long moment; she still doesn’t – she _can’t_ believe this is happening, but she can try and be calm. She breathes in slowly, and exhales, before looking up.

“What happened?” It’s clear that she panicked enough to disassociate, but the last thing she remembers was being on the bed, and there are more people in the room now.

Varric tries to smile at her. “Ah, you’re not quite used being a mage yet. You panicked and sort of…filled the room with magic. We came to help, but you’d kind of covered your skin with lightning.” He blows out a breath. “None of us could touch you to calm you down, so the Seeker tried to cast a Smite on you.”

 _Silence me? Then why -_

“Why did that throw me into the wall?”

Cassandra clears her throat and steps forwards. “It appears that your Mark makes it difficult for my abilities to have their intended effect. Instead of your magic dissipating, it reacted as if you were shown physical force. For what it is worth, you have my apologies for causing you harm.”

Lily doesn’t know nearly enough about templar and seeker abilities to wrap her head around that; she just nods, because if she tries to think about it then she’ll end up thinking about how she’s in some kind of parallel universe where she has magic she can’t control and no medication and a mark on her hand that’ll _kill her_ in just _two years,_ and she has to put her head between her legs again.

Everyone is quiet for a moment. Then Leliana speaks again.

“If you could, we wished to speak with you in the Chantry. There are matters relating to the Breach that have not yet been resolved. Do you feel well enough to come with me?”

Lily blinks a few times. _Actually, no,_ she thinks. _I kind of want to curl into a ball forever because this is horrible and I hate everything right now, and also fuck you for no reason in particular other than I’m upset._

“I…yes.” Is what she says instead. “Let’s go.”

***

The Chantry is a heavy, formidable building that mutes all sounds from outdoors, and Lily is grateful for it. Walking out of her cabin, after Leliana had gone ahead, had led to a crowd of people staring and murmuring at her, and if it weren’t for Cassandra behind her she would have fled back inside. Instead, she’s approaching what she recognizes to be the door to Haven’s war room, and she can hear shouting from within.

“The girl is a murderer, and an untrained apostate as well! She must be taken to Val Royeaux to face trial!”

“Chancellor, please be reasonable. She is a child, and has helped us stop the spread of the breach. Surely that would not be the action of one whose goal was to create it!”

Lily pauses outside of the door, hesitant to add the object of their conversation to the mix. Cassandra has no such reservations and slams the door open.

It makes a loud noise. Lily flinches.

Chancellor Roderick turns to look, and his gaze catches on Lily. His face contorts into fury.  
“Chain her! I want this criminal to be brought to Val Royeaux immediately!”

“Disregard that, and leave us.” The templars in the room look between Roderick and Cassandra, and then salute and file out of the room. 

“You walk a dangerous line, Seeker,” Roderick growls.

“The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it.”

They turn to look at her, which is, okay, no. Cassandra’s brows are drawing closer together, though, so Lily clears her throat.

“Um. I tried to help? I’m not sure what happened, because I kind of passed out, but the Breach isn’t as bad now, right?” That wasn’t quite a ringing endorsement for her own usefulness, but there are _mitigating circumstances._ She’ll allow it.

Roderick growls at her. “You have done plenty. Your actions will be taken into account by the new Divine.”

Cassandra’s lip curls. “Have a care, Chancellor. The Breach is not the only threat we face.”

At this moment, Leliana steps out of the shadows, maximizing her dramatic effect. _Bi people are so fucking extra,_ Lily thinks, albeit a little hysterically. _She totally waited for the right moment._

“Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others – or have allies who yet live.”

Roderick stutters. “ _I_ am a suspect?”

“You, and many others.”

“But _not_ the prisoner.”

“My name is Lily,” whispers the girl in question, and she flinches immediately after speaking; but if someone called her “Prisoner” one more time she would have tried to deck them. “I didn’t do anything wrong! All I did was help to make the Breach more stable, right?”

Cassandra looks to Lily, and smiles, triumphant. “Yes, that is right.” The victory on her face makes Lily uneasy; she draws into herself.

Then, Cassandra turns on Roderick. “This is providence. The Maker sent her to us in our darkest hour,” she says, and _oh, fuck no, absolutely not._

“You’re joking, right?” Lily stares at Cassandra with wide eyes. “I’m not _chosen by the Maker,_ I don’t even _believe_ in the Maker! I’m not Andrastian!”

Cassandra remains infuriatingly unperturbed. “We are all subject to the will of the Maker, whether we wish it or not,” she says, so calmly that Lily wants to slap her.

Thankfully, Leliana knows how to read a room, and steps forward. “The Breach remains, and your mark is our only hope of closing it.”

Roderick is practically foaming at the mouth. “This is not for you to decide!”

Cassandra slams a book down on the table and Lily nearly jumps out of her _fucking skin._ People need to _warn her_ if they’re going to make noises like that. “You know what this is, Chancellor? A writ from the Divine, granting us authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.” She crowds Roderick towards the wall, jabbing her finger at his chest. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval.”

Roderick glares a Cassandra so furiously that Lily half-expects the woman to spontaneously combust, before spinning on his heel and exiting the room. He slams the door behind him, and Lily winces. She wraps her arms around herself, and looks around the room, anywhere but at the women in front of her. It’s actually rather cozy, and smells of wood and dust. There’s also a spot between a bookshelf and a wall that looks as if it’s the right size for her to curl up in, if she needs to. That’s nice. It’s all nice. This is fine.

“Lily.”

Lily bites her lip, and looks up at Leliana, who appears somewhat sympathetic. “This is the Divine’s directive,” she says. “Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos. We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support.”

“But we have no choice,” Cassandra adds. “We must act now. With you at our side.”

Lily stares at them, feels her anxiety swell in her throat, and then

_Goddamn fucking shit fuck_

her head jerks to the side, and her arm snaps out from her body.

Two axes that had been hanging on the wall fall down, clanging loudly. Cassandra stares at them. Leliana sighs. Lily wonders if she could get away with banging her head against the door because of course, _of course_ her tics are going to choose the worst time to make an appearance. She’s not sure why that one coincided with an accident, though.

_Or should I say axe-ciddent?_

God, her brain is so fucked up.

“What was that, exactly?” Cassandra looks wary. “Did you intend to make them fall?”

“Um.” Well, technically no. “I didn’t? I’m not sure that was me.”

Leliana coughs delicately. “You are an untrained mage, yes? The axes did fall after you…moved.” Oh, and _there_ it is. Explaining Tourette’s Syndrome is bad enough when she’s in a world where most people know what neurochemistry is; What is she supposed to say here? _Don’t worry about that, I’ve just got some faulty wiring in my brain. I might lose the ability to speak for a few hours at a time now and then, or flick my wrists, or give a full-body shudder, or be unable to stop blinking, or be unable to move for several minutes, or flail every limb I have, or have my legs give out, or let out really creepy laughs, or_ spontaneously burst into song, _or make awful grunting noises, or pull out bits of hair, or hit myself -_

“I have a sort of…malady,” Is what she actually says. “Sometimes I move or make noise without meaning to. I don’t know why, or what causes it.” _And hey, it’s not like people back home have a definitive answer as to what causes Tourette’s anyway, so this isn’t really a lie._ “Sorry. It can get worse when I’m anxious.” _Which is all the time,_ her mind is helpful enough to add. _God, shut the fuck up you intrusive little bitch,_ she thinks back.

There are a few beats of uneasy silence, which Cassandra eventually breaks. “I…see,” she says, clearly not seeing at all. “Perhaps that is something Solas can assist you with. However, we do still need your help.”

Lily’s stomach feels like it’s wriggling, because she knows what that entails; she knows about people gasping and murmuring and actually _worshipping_ the “Herald of Andraste” and she is not okay with that. She is not going to be held up as an idol to the masses who view her as some messianic figure, because first and foremost, Lily _hates the Chantry._ She blinks and looks at the left and right hands of the Divine in the room with her, and decides not to mention that.

 _I want to go home,_ she thinks, and says, “Okay. I’ll help.”

***

Cassandra and Leliana introduce her to the Inquisition’s diplomat and commander; Josephine Montilyet is expected, but Samson is not.

Lily screams and flattens herself against the wall when she sees him, _what is he doing here, is he a spy, is he going to kill me, is there red lyrium in his veins oh God help me please._ Books fall off their shelves and she shakes.

“Oh, hey now,” he says. “I’m not a templar anymore, girl. You’ve got nothing to fear from me.” _Oh,_ Lily thinks. An ex-templar from Kirkwall, seeing a fresh mage with a Marcher accent flinch away; he thinks she’s scared of him. She is, but not because he was a templar. She is scared because Samson _does not make sense._

__Of course, she can’t say anything about that, so Lily tries to smile. She fails miserably. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” and it’s not a lie. “You’re from Kirkwall, right?”_ _

__He grins, then, pleased that she’s calmed down, and puffs his chest out a bit. “I was indeed,” he boasts. “Got kicked out of the order and helped smuggle some mages until that Darktown healer blew up the bleeding city.” Something strangely like pride flits across his face. “The man helped me through some bad shakes, you know. He wasn’t all bad.”_ _

__Cassandra opens her mouth in outrage, and Josephine sighs at what must be a recurring point of contention, while Leliana holds her mouth steady against the urge to let her lips twitch. Lily quietly panics at how she does not know this world like she should, and Josephine notices._ _

__“Ah, you must be facing quite the adjustment!” she says. “We must see about having the apostate teach you for now, until we can make formal arrangements. And, while we are on the subject of Kirkwall, might I inquire as to a family you may wish to send letters?”_ _

__The temperature in the room literally drops. Lily opens her mouth, but no words come out, and small patches of ice spread on the heavy table from where her hands are clutching at it._ _

__“Lily,” Leliana murmurs, her voice gentle. “Remember to breathe.”_ _

__Lily breathes. The ice doesn’t recede, but it doesn’t spread, either. She won’t realize how extraordinary a victory that is until later. She breathes._ _

__“I don’t have family in Kirkwall,” she manages, her voice cracking like the ice under her fingers. “I don’t know where my family is.” This is also not a lie, and her breath catches in her throat. The room is quiet; the past few days have seen a sky split open. Josephine is diplomatic, reads between the not-quite-lies, and assumes the girl’s family is dead. She clears her throat._ _

__“You have our condolences,” says the ambassador, first and foremost, “But perhaps we may offer you a small comfort? Samson, would you retrieve the items that were taken before Lily’s innocence was proven?”_ _

__Samson starts a bit, then nods, and leaves the room. Cassandra turns to where Lily looks after him, her expression confused. “We were unsure as to their purpose,” she explains, “And so had them taken from your cell. They were with you when you fell out of the rift. We are not sure what they are.”_ _

__Lily blinks at her. _What?_ She is wearing clothes that do not belong to her, has a knife strapped to a belt she hadn’t seen before waking up in a dungeon. How did she have anything with her? _ _

__

__“That is not, strictly speaking, entirely accurate,” Josephine says. “There is a piece of jewelry with an unknown symbol, and some sort of toy, or what we believe to be something similar. We simply wish for you to clarify the meaning of the jewelry.”_ _

__A piece of jewelry with an unknown symbol. Lily’s hand flies to her throat just as Samson returns, carrying a small box. Lily makes a dive for it, and nearly sobs when she finds the Magen David on its tangled chain. She reaches to put it on, but Samson reaches out a hand to stop her._ _

__“Hold on, girl. We need to know what that is first.” His voice is somewhat gentle, but it’s taking everything Lily has not to scream. Instead, she chokes on her words._ _

__“It’s a necklace, it’s not magic, I swear, please give it back. Please, _my mother gave that to me."_ _ _

__

__

_____It’s the same star. I had the chain replaced, and it’s stainless steel, which won’t rust._  
_So I never -_  
_You never have to take it off._

__“And the star?” Samson prompts. Lily feels her chin wobble, and swallows before she replies. “It’s supposed to mean protection. It’s tradition, not magic, it’s cultural, _please,_ please give it back.” She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. Samson exchanges a look with the other adults around the table, and hands her the chain. Lily rips it from his hand and claps it around her neck. She clutches at the star and feels something settle inside of her settle into place._ _

__“There’s also the matter of this…toy,” Samson adds, and Lily looks up to see him holding a stuffed seal, with a worn nose and old coat and shiny eyes, and she bursts into tears. She holds her arms out, and Samson instinctively gives her the stuffed animal. Lily hugs it tightly to her chest and tries not to sob so loudly. Josephine looks at her quizzically._ _

__“Is it a toy, then? We were not completely sure.”_ _

__Lily manages to nod, still crying. “Her name is Sealie,” she gasps, and breaks into fresh sobs because _Sealie is right here._ Brows raise at the unoriginal name, but Lily had been three. Sue her. “She – she helps when I have nightmares.”_ _

__The adults are looking at each other, warring with their expressions. Leliana and Cassandra both look determined, while Josephine appears reluctant, and Samson almost seems guilty. Leliana and Cassandra win, and after a few moments in which Lily can wipe her eyes and catch her breath, Josephine sighs, and brings up the matter of a Chantry sister in the Hinterlands._ _

__“Her assistance may prove invaluable,” she tells Lily. Regardless of the importance, all of the advisors agree that Lily shouldn’t be going anywhere until she can at least stop making things fall over or freeze when she’s upset. She’ll have to leave within the week, they tell her. Until then, she’ll have to train._ _

___I am a child,_ Lily thinks. _I don’t belong here, I don’t know how to do this, and I want to go home.__ _

__“Yeah. Okay,” she says out loud._ _

____I want my parents.__ _ _

__“It might be fun.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so sorry. This chapter was finished months ago, but the formatting was acting like a motherfucker. Then I had a depressive episode, got diagnosed with SAD (seasonal affective disorder) and just forgot about everything. I think the formatting for this chapter is still fucked up, but I don't have a beta so I'm trying to muck through it.
> 
> The next chapter should come sooner, and again, I'm sorry.
> 
> (if you comment, I will probably end up naming an NPC after you. I love comments.)  
> ((the above is totally bribery and I am unashamed.))


	3. The Joy of Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily is looking up at the sky. It’s a lovely, vivid blue, filled with puffy clouds, and would be near-picturesque if not for the gaping hole in the middle. Still, if she ignores the Breach, it’s a nice view. Also, she doesn’t want to –
> 
> “Get up.”
> 
>  
> 
> _Fuck you, dumbass wolf-boy, you gave a fucking bomb to an immortal darkspawn._
> 
>  
> 
> “Yes, Solas,” she says, and pushes herself off of the ground, where she’d been laying in the snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usual warnings - panic and anxiety, some disassociation, also faux-emotional abuse.

_This is not fun._

Lily is looking up at the sky. It’s a lovely, vivid blue, filled with puffy clouds, and would be near-picturesque if not for the gaping hole in the middle. Still, if she ignores the Breach, it’s a nice view. Also, she doesn’t want to –

“Get up.”

_Fuck you, dumbass wolf-boy, you gave a fucking bomb to an immortal darkspawn._

“Yes, Solas,” she says, and pushes herself off of the ground, where she’d been laying in the snow.

Four days have passed since she woke up in Thedas. They have not been fun.

After leaving the Chantry, Lily had been too dazed to do anything but go where she was called. Cassandra brought her to Solas. Solas looked at her, one arm curled around a stuffed toy, the other brought up to clench around a star at her throat, and sighed.

“Thank you, Seeker,” he had said. “You may leave us.” Then Solas had spent the next half hour trying to convince Lily to let go of her necklace and seal and pay attention to a lecture on magical theory. Lily had not paid attention; she had stood staring off into space, not noticing that the ground beneath her feet was icing over. Solas had noticed and redoubled his efforts. Eventually, growing frustrated, the ~~immortal~~ ~~general~~ ~~revolutionary~~ ~~god~~ elf had pulled Sealie out of Lily’s arms.

Lily had _screamed._

That was the only noise she had made for the next two days.

After nearly electrocuting both Solas and herself, Lily had been sent to bed. No; she’d been offered dinner first, but she hadn’t been hungry, and the meal was based around druffalo meat. Lily didn’t know if druffalos were kosher. She’d just gone to bed.

She’d stayed awake the entire night, thoughts slipping through her mind.

_Your home is gone. You have no idea what is happening. You are alone._

_Shut up,_ she’d thought back, and had shoved the thoughts are hard as she could and slammed a door on them in her head.

When the sky grew lighter, and she was still in Thedas, Lily pressed her face into a blanket and cried for a few hours. Then she came to an abrupt realization and cried more.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck I don’t have my meds, oh god._

After she could breathe again, she’d already had three separate panic attacks and electrified her hair to the point where it floated around her head like a dark blonde cloud, Lily looked around the room and noticed that several books had flown off of shelves, a chair was knocked over, and the air smelled like ozone. When it was properly morning and she could breathe again she got up and knocked on Solas’s door.

That entire day had revolved around breathing steadily and trying not to shock everything she touched. The next was also about breathing steadily and not shocking everything she touched; the third day, Solas had told her to work on her breathing, and she had _snapped._

_“I FUCKING KNOW HOW TO BREATHE!”_

All of the snow around her feet melted and then steamed; Solas raised his eyebrows, and Lily dropped the staff to grab at her hair, trying to calm herself down.

_You have been in therapy since you were nine. You’ve been doing CBD for years. Breathe, Lily. Come on. In three, hold four, out five. Breathe._

She’d breathed, then burst into tears and run away from Solas and towards the woods around Haven. She ended up in the old apothecary’s cabin, curled up in a corner, and cried for ten minutes when she’d heard the squeak.

Lily had immediately looked up in a panic, frantic to see if she was going to have to fight for her life, and made eye contact with a nug. She stared at it, and it squeaked again, then walked forwards on its creepy little hands to nose at her jacket.

_Oh. Right._

Earlier that morning Flissa had noticed Lily not eating as much as she should have and had pressed a few pieces of jerky into the girl’s hands without taking no for an answer. Lily didn’t know what kind of meat it was, but it was probably treyf, so she hadn’t touched it. The nug, however, had no such qualms. It squeaked at her.

“Um.”

_”Squeak!”_

“This might be nug meat, you know. I was kind of out of it when Flissa gave it to me, I’m not sure what it is.”

Lily hadn’t known that nugs could look condescending, but this one was obviously proving her wrong. She fished out the jerky, grimacing – she _hated_ handling treyf – and held it out to the nug. The naked bunny-pig nibbled at it, then pulled it out of her hand with its teeth and ate next to her. When it was done eating, it didn’t move, and Lily slowly reached out to pat it on the head. It made an odd trilling sound and rubbed its snout against her leg. Lily stared for a moment, and then almost smiled.

She spent an hour scratching behind the nug’s ears before she left; It had gotten dark while she’d been inside, and for a heart-stopping moment she thought she could see the silhouette of a wolf out of the corner of her eyes; she turned to look and there was nothing. Realizing she’d need to start eating more, she headed back towards Haven, where Solas was waiting, and picked up her staff. He’d shaken his head and told her to eat dinner and rest.

Now, she gets up from the snowbank and brushes off her shoulders. They’re heading to meet Mother Giselle in three days, and she can’t waste more time crying.

_You were weak and pathetic, and should be ashamed of your own existence you miserable child._

_Fuck off, Karen,_ Lily thinks, and lifts her staff. Her intrusive thoughts have gotten worse since she’s been here, but those are easier to deal with then magic; she just imagines a WASP trying to criticize her and flicks them away. Squaring her shoulders, Lily focuses her breath and tries to imagine lightning collecting in her hand without ricocheting.

_If you think you can control this, you are a fool._

_Did I fucking ask your opinion, bitch?_ The lightning manages to fly towards Solas in an arc, but dissipates halfway through. Still, it’s better than the second day of training when she had tried to rein in electricity and had ended up setting Solas’s bed on fire. All things considered, he’d been very gracious about it.

“Try again,” he calls, and Lily does.

By the time the sun is low on the horizon, Lily has managed to properly channel two balls of electricity through her staff, and one of them actually made contact with Solas’s barrier. She feels hesitantly proud of herself, and then more confidently proud when Solas gives her a nod.

“Well done,” he says, and Lily exhales. “You worked hard today, and you have made clear progress despite your circumstances being less than ideal.” At that, Lily snorts, and Solas’s mouth quirks up. “Will you return to Haven with me, now?”

“In a bit?” she says hesitantly. “I think I’d like to spend some more time in the snow.” Actually, she wants to go see if she can find another nug to pet, but that would still be in the snow, so she’s technically not lying.

Lily _loves_ technicalities. She’d make an amazing lawyer if not for the crippling anxiety and desire to cry whenever people are upset with her.

“Have I missed a joke, da’len?”

Lily looks up and sees Solas looking at her with a raised brow. She tries to smile at him and goes to put her staff away next to the swords on the weapon rack. “It’s nothing, Serah. I’ll see you soon.”

“Ma nuvenin.” Solas turns and heads back towards the gates to Haven, and Lily has a split-second idea. She makes a snowball (with her hands, because she isn’t an idiot) and throws it at Solas’s back (because she’s a little bit of an idiot.)

“Ma serannas!” she yells back and turns heel to sprint away. She manages a few feet before several pounds of snow land on her head and she goes down spluttering. When she manages to shake all of it off, she sees that Solas hadn’t even looked back. “Dick,” she mutters, and smiles to herself. Then she darts through the trees and makes for the hut. 

(It won’t occur to her for several days that this was the first moment she truly laughed upon waking in Haven.)

When she gets there, she stops outside the doorway and looks around, twisting her fingers around her necklace. She’d grabbed a stale bread crust and shoved it in her coat this morning, but she isn’t sure how to attract a nug.

“Fuck,” she groans, and goes inside to sit down. Today hadn’t been as bad, and she’d been able to enact Stage One in her Make My Backstory Seem Plausible plan by calling Solas “serah” instead of “ser.” So far, she’s been lucky, with everyone feeling bad enough for her that they haven’t really asked anything, but she isn’t naïve enough to think that’ll last forever. She needs to seem like a Marcher; also, she can’t lie. Leliana is Sister Nightingale, and just because she’s been kind so far doesn’t mean she won’t also be looking into Lily’s origins. Once they realize she isn’t actually from Kirkwall, at least Lily’ll be able to point out that she never explicitly lied.

It’ll be a weak, flimsy, almost nonexistent defense, but she’ll have to take what she can get.

As her thoughts turn more maudlin, Lily lays bad on the abandoned bunk and sighs, jerks her head to the left slightly, lurches an arm, and sighs harder. She’s yet to tie her hair up, because she doesn’t remember if it’s normal to have pierced ears in Thedas, and she’s still incapable of taking less than fifteen minutes to put on the underwear they have here.

_Oh, God, getting my period is going to be a nightmare._

She’s shaken out of her thoughts by a squeaking sound, and sits up quickly – too quickly, as she sees spots and falls out of the bed.

_”Squeak!”_

“Yeah, hi to you too.” Lily rubs the back of her head and manages to smile slightly at the nug. She holds out the bread crust and it takes it with a snuffling noise, eating while she scratches behind its ears. She gets up to look around; there’s not much to see. A bed, a table and chair, a fireplace, and a desk with some notes on it.

_Wasn’t there something important about notes in Haven?_

There was, now that she’s thinking about it. The apothecary wanted notes from this hut in the game; the Inquisitor could deliver them in exchange for either improved potions or more potion slots, she can’t remember which. Either way, it can’t hurt to take them. Reaching for the sheaf of notes, Lily glimpses the writing and freezes.

She can’t read it.

She _can’t read it._

The temperature in the hut plummets so quickly that the nug squeaks in alarm and runs out, almost slipping on the ice that’s spread across the ground. If Lily was focusing, she’d realize that she could see her own breath, but all she can see is a different alphabet written diagonally on the left side of a page and there are tears freezing on her cheeks before she even processes that she’s crying.

 _Oh, poor little girl, always reading by yourself in a corner,_ comes a voice, almost hissing in her mind. _Weren’t you always so proud of yourself, reading so quickly, telling yourself that you were so clever for it when, really, you needed fiction to take the places of friends you didn’t know how to make?_

She’s shaking, now, and the parchment in her hands is turning brittle with frost.

_And now you don’t even have that much left, you sad, pathetic, **weak** -_

_”SHUT UP!”_ she screams, and the sound doesn’t even sound human when it leaves her throat. The voice doesn’t go away, just continues to mock her, and Lily curls into a ball and sobs on the ground because _she can’t read, she needs to be able to read but she can’t read this stupid fucking alphabet._

She falls asleep without realizing, her eyelashes frozen.

 

******

She’s sitting in bed when her mom walks into the room. Lisa Rosen frowns at her, and Lily blinks; her mother doesn’t usually look at her that harshly.

“Mom?” she asks, wondering what’s wrong; Lisa just continues to frown at her. Lily shifts, feeling uneasy, and then even more uneasy for the feeling of it around her mother. “Mama? What’s the matter?”

_’You are.’_

Lily flinches back as if she’s been slapped.

_’You are a terrible child, a constant burden, with too many medical bills, too many mornings spent crying instead of going to school, too much time and effort required to keep alive.’_

“Mama I’m sorry I didn’t – I don’t mean to, it’s not on purpose –“

 _’And you say that you will try,’_ her mother continues, as if Lily hadn’t spoken. _’You say that you will pay attention in class and you then refuse to ask questions. You say you will spend time with friends and then never plan to see them. You say you will exercise and then never leave the house.’_

“I’m sorry, I’m _so sorry,_ I want to be better, I always wanted to make you happy –“

Lisa lets out a horrible, bitter laugh. _’You are a disappointment,’_ she says, and Lily loses what breath was left in her lungs. _’Your brother is normal, but you have never been anything but a disappointment to us.’_

Lily feels like she’s shattering, and the world around her feels dreamlike and unreal. This can’t be right, her parents love her, her mother loves her, and yet –

 _’If you wish, you could have us love you again, Lily,’_ Lisa croons, and leans closer. _’Would that make you happy?’_

Of course it would, that’s all Lily wants, and she opens her mouth to say so when she notices that there’s something…wrong, with her mother’s eyes. She peers closer, trying to see what it is.

 _Lily?_ Lisa asks, voice growing angrier, and oh, that almost makes Lily forget about it because her mother being angry at her is agonizing, but – the eyes. They’re completely green, and that doesn’t make sense. Lisa has eyes that are blue with a ring of yellow in the middle, the iris surrounded by grey. Lily knows this, because her eyes are the same; but somehow, this Lisa has entirely green eyes, as bright and vivid as the mark on her hand –

_Wait_  
_The mark on my hand?_

Lily blinks, and looks at her left palm; it has a shimmering green light scarred across it, like the Inquisitor’s mark in Dragon Age, and she feels threads starting to work their way together in her mind.

 _’Listen to me!’_ the Not-Lisa shrieks. _’I am your mother!’_

“No you’re not,” Lily whispers. “My mother loves me.”

The Not-Lisa lets out a shriek and lunges at her, its form twisting from a woman to a horrible, freezing monster with gaping jaws and Lily _screams_ and almost hits her head on the wall behind her when she wakes up.

 _Useless…_ hisses a voice in her head, and Lily almost chokes on terror as she realizes it’s not an intrusive thought.

It’s a demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse except that writing is hard and formatting is evil. Sorry? If it's any consolation, I'm going to start doing an NPC comment bingo, where I'll choose someone's comment and contact them to see if they want to be an NPC. Does that sound good to you guys? If not, I'll just send virtual cookies.


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